PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[inspired in oart by Constantine Cavafy's poem, "Comes To Rest," trans. by Keeley and Sherrard]

Remember the first day the two of you spent together?

Clad only in "skinny" style jeans, barefoot and shirtless;

unshaven for a couple of days' stubble; you felt, at first, a

little self-conscious about your hirsute torso but that, and

any other prudish inhibiitons or societal expectations failed

when he told you, somewhat shyly (his smile, however, quite

delightedly sincere) how erotically beautiful you were.

Above your young faces the sun, and beneath the soles of

your bare feet, the grass provided an agreeably perfect

venue for those first, tentative handclasps and kisses.

Logical consideration, calculation of disadvantages, and 

especially concern for what other might think---all the

analytical processes expected of you in college---are

entirely unimportant; because this urge to be together (and,

later tonight, the time of stars'light, the urge to be naked

together) is proof that Love had chosen to couple the two of

you with as much cosmic precision as any astronomer could wish. 

Starward